No more flowery words
No more wispy vocabulary
No more false hopes woven into
beautiful phrases
No more lovely poetry
No more lies
No more pretty
No more pretty
No more pretty

Here’s a salute
to all those
who could not hide behind
a pleasing exterior,
those
who could not package themselves
into pretty wrapping paper
with a bow on top
Glittering
just to visually appease
those who looked at them

Here’s a salute
to all those
who could not deceive others
with their delicate lies,
who were
just as they appeared to be,
who did not hide behind
cakey surfaces
to earn approval
and validation from those
who did not care
to look beyond
the pretty picture

Here’s a salute
to all those
who were brave enough
to stand just as they were
and were not ashamed
of all the things
that made them
human,
to all those
who did not hide
marks and bumps and ridges
just to appear
more than they were

Here’s a salute
with my middle finger
to all those
who dared put down others
just for having flaws
and imperfections
for being human;
for being themselves

So no more flowery words
No more wispy vocabulary
No more false hopes woven into
beautiful phrases
No more lovely poetry
Just the truth
No more lies
No more pretty
No more pretty
No more pretty

God I wish I was beautiful
I wish I was beautiful
In the conventional way
All light skinned
Hour glassed
Glossy cheeks
And red lips
The kind of beautiful
That turned heads in public places
The kind of beautiful
That drove girls
Wild with jealousy
And men
Wild with desire
The kind of beautiful
You found on the front page of magazines
The kind of beautiful
That you knew was beautiful
At first glance

Instead
I was just the beautiful
That was in my own way
The beautiful
You really had to look for
And dig deep to find
The beautiful
That only certain people saw
The beautiful
That didn’t catch eyes
Or turn heads
Or drive girls wild with jealousy
I was the beautiful
That didn’t really make me feel
All that beautiful
Most of the time

“I love you”, he whispered.
The words came out of his tainted lips, like an airy wisp,
demanding to be caught by her, and demanding to be answered to.
Her own lips formed the very words, but remained unmoving.
Her heart, wounded tightly, refused to say them back,
for her brain that thought too much, could not believe them to be true.

She was not what he saw, nor was she what he thought of her to be.
She was not the willowy hair that spread across the pillow,
neither was she the soft mouth that begged to say something back.
She was not the alluring eyes that looked fondly ahead,
neither was she the gentle smile that played across her lips.

Before him, she bared herself then, to show who she truly was.
Depth of emotion and a confused mind brought themselves forth.
Whirlwind of sentiments and a raging brain were exposed.
Hours of lying on the bathroom floor in tears were revealed,
and days where she was drowning in despair were unconcealed.

The war within her mind was harsh against the soft curve of her face,
the turmoil that she lived in gave an edge to the pleasant aura that surrounded.
He better tread soft, for the edges were sharp,
And so were the words that sometimes escaped her lips.

Her clothes fell free, disclosing the secrets that her body held.
Scars, wounds, blemishes, and stretch marks, she wore them all,
like old and dusty medals on a trophy case that was no longer treasured.
She was a work of art neglected, once started and never finished.

She was everything she did not portray; she was everything he did not see.
Unveiled and bared open,
“I dare you to love me now”, she whispered back.

“Jump”, she whispered. And so he did.
Liberated, exhilarated, Freed.
Oh how wonderful it felt.
The wind hard against his thighs,
the thighs that held stories,
stories of taunts, and ridicule.
He flailed his hands back and forth,
as if weightless, finally feeling light,
both physically and mentally.
The ground approached fast,
but he dared not look,
for what lay ahead plagued his mind.
Instead, he pondered.
He pondered over how a person
could be demeaned to something worthless,
worthless as an object.
He pondered over where along the journey
the brilliance of his mind
began to be recognized by his appearance.
He pondered over how ruthless the world was
only to recognize soulful excellence
by what lay in the exterior.
He pondered over how his extra inches
in any way determined
how much he could succeed in life.
He pondered and pondered, but in vain,
accepting that no right answer stood.
The ground fast approached.
Almost near enough to touch.
The force that it would exert as he’d land
made him wince.
But, the parachute worked its magic,
and landed him safely to the ground.
Feeling solid mass underneath his feet,
he took tentative steps,
realizing what the world needed:
his weight upon it.
For if it could not stand the burden,
the parachute would have failed to work.

Hey there,
I’m not going to fill this letter with sappy over-the-top lines we all know to be rarely true. However, I do promise to be very honest with you.

I need you to know that no matter what you do and how you are, I will always love you. Some days I might love you less, and some days more, but I need you to know I’ll still be loving you somewhere in the corner of my mind.

I know that you have many things that you do not consider right for yourself. I know that you have bad days, and that sometimes you do not try as hard as you should. I know that sometimes you think too much and it kills you, and sometimes you hold yourself back from things that you should be doing. I know sometimes negative thoughts over power you, and sometimes you just do not want to try. I know. I know all that, and despite everything, you are still my favorite human being.

I think that even though your face is not the best, and your body is very far from being even remotely that, I’m glad that you are finally learning to look past your physical appearance. I know that sometimes insecurities get the better of you, and sometimes you feel awful about yourself. I know you get jealous easily about how other girls can look flawless without even trying, and I know how hard you try. I know and I need you to know that you are beautiful in your own self.

I like that you are one of the strongest people I’ve met. You have a remarkably strong will. Despite what you tell yourself, I know that you are deep down very ambitious and there are many things you want to achieve in life. I don’t promise that all of them will come true, but I do promise to help you as much as I can along the way and together we’ll try our best to turn them into your reality. Everybody has lazy days, and sometimes it’s okay to have them. Just remember not to lose sight of what you see for yourself in the future, and I pray to God that for you it becomes true.

Even though I hate to see what you become on your bad days, I need you to know that they do not define you. You can be weak. And though some days you break down into inconsolable tears, it’s alright to let it out sometimes and it does not make you any less. I know sometimes you cannot help but be negative about everything, and I know how life pushes you a lot to the extent where it gets hard for you to cope. But I promise that you will also see good days and on those days you’ll realize that continuing with this life is the best thing you could have done for yourself. I hope that you will be happy. I can’t guarantee complete carefree days but I can promise to help you along the way as much as I can.

I know that you are very independent and strong minded, and I understand and respect that, but you must also know that some days it’s okay to let other people in, it’s okay to let them know what you’re going through, and it’s okay to allow them to grieve and heal with you. It doesn’t have to ‘fix’ anything, but I can tell you, you will feel much better knowing that someone besides me also cares enough to understand and stand by your side.

And when it comes to meeting your ‘soul mate’, if you are lucky enough to find them, you need to know that they may not be how you imagined them to be. They may be completely different to what you pictured. But for that I’ll need you to trust in God, for what He has done for you is right for you. And everything will work out, even if it’s not exactly as you wanted it to.

And if you do decide to give your all to that person, promise me you will not lose who you are. You will grow with them, but you will not forget your roots.

However, if you happen to never meet that someone, you will not ruin yourself over it. You are much more than you think and you will get by without someone constantly by your side, as you have for so many years. I know that your heart has been broken, multiple times too, and I know that your heart will be broken a lot of times in the future, but I need you to understand that it will be okay.

Lastly, I hope you never lose the friends that you have today because I know you cherish them a lot. Even on your worse days they can make your day bearable without knowing it. It’s because of them you smile a little wider sometimes, and your eyes shine a little brighter. As long as you have them by your side, I promise you that life will not be as bad as you think.

I hope that you keep all this in mind whenever you start to doubt yourself or doubt the plan that God has laid out for you. Though, it may not feel right now that any of this is even remotely correct, one day I hope with all my heart that everything I’ve written here starts to make sense.

For now, just lay back a bit, try to relax, let things come easy, and everything will be okay.

Her finger nails tirelessly gnawed at the peeling, fraying wood lining her desk. The blistering cold outside did little to help the anger heating up inside of her. A strange kind of numbness had taken over and though her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, they were finally open for the first time in months. “How Dare he! HOW DARE HE!” she screamed inside her mind, not letting the tide of tears welling up in her eyes from flowing down. The skin beneath her nails began to blister but her mind was far too occupied to notice the blood droplets now staining her desk-top in a gory streak. The distinct pain she felt was all too familiar as she let herself feel it believing she deserved the entire ache she got. “What a liar, what a sore liar! How dare he take all the credit? How dare he!” she once again screamed in her mind as the thoughts from last night replayed in her crumbling brain. How he so innocently stood before her teachers, a hand on his heart, saying how proud he was for always being there for her, for getting her through this, for pushing her to recovery, for saving her. Her hands trembled, the blood beginning to boil inside her veins as they shook his hand again and again, glad their student had recovered thanks to his help. She knew it would do no good to tell them the truth. Tell them how he was a lying bastard, and that he was never there for her. She didn’t bother because she knew she was insane and they would surely prefer believing her father.

Her face was starting to turn red like the stains on her desk as she reminisced in the events from the night before. “Don’t do this to yourself again! Don’t do it!” her brain pleaded as she dug the wood further inside her finger tips. “I was all alone, it was all me. How dare he!” She felt ashamed and betrayed and bruised, how nobody acknowledged her efforts and blatantly believed the lies he fed them. It was hard to live in this world when you were broken into shards by something you could not control. She shook in rage as she remembered all those nights she wept on the bathroom floor, clutching her throat, suppressing the screams that tempted to be heard. She could still feel the hatred boiling through her as she looked down upon the world from the top of her apartment building, fractions away from jumping down. The feeling of having the blood pour down from her arms was still all too vivid in her head as her brain repeatedly chanted ‘deeper, deeper, deeper’. Yet here she sat reliving her sorrowful tale, and she had only herself to owe it to. She could only thank herself, because on each of those nights it was her who got off the bathroom floor, her who stepped down the ledge, her who wiped off all the blood and threw the blades down the sink. It was her who was now dusting up all the pieces. And it was her who had finally saved her. How dare he take all the credit.

She was bruised and she was broken, but she was still whole. She finally let the flush of tears run down her cheeks as tremors racked her frail body. The blood shining off her skin sent a wave of disgust through her as she hastily wiped it on her shirt. The bag she packed the night before was strapped upon her shoulder, as she carefully jumped down her window ledge; a jumpthat was finally going to lead to better things.